Heaven Can Wait
by Kathryn Adkins
Summary: Buffy Summers has lost so much in her young life... William Grieves never given much thought to his life. Watch as William teaches Buffy how to live and Buffy teaches William how to live again. Very loosely based on the movie Just Like Heaven. Disclaime
1. Chapter 1

William Grieves was an ordinary man. He stood at a compact 5'10" and kept his muscles well-corded and sleek with Pilates and cycling. He had a mop of sun-bleached curls and wore wire-rimmed glasses that often slid to the bottom of his nose. His most striking features were sharp cheekbones and startling blue eyes.

He was a fairly simple man. He didn't own a car, preferring to ride his bicycle anywhere he needed to go. He lived in a neat brownstone in a neighborhood that was a throw-back to the 1950s, complete with corner drug store with a soda fountain and a juke box. The trip to work took just five minutes on his bicycle. Down the sidewalk, to the corner, left to Margate and right to Main.

"Buy the Book" was small, comfortable and loaded with shelf after shelf of some of the most unusual books imaginable. Some books were brand new, their covers still gleaming, their pages crisp and white. Some were lovingly used, pages dog-eared from being marked, their covers soft and worn. Whether it was a rare childhood favorite like Lopshire's _I Am Better Than You_ about a lizard named Sam who thought that nobody was better than him, or the mystical _Caritas Book of the Dead_ which housed ancient Aztec spells and potions, one could find it on the overloaded shelves of "Buy the Book." That which couldn't be found, William would hunt down for the customer himself. His dream had been to own a bookstore since he was a small child. At the determined age of 25, he had done it. Now, at 32, he was successful and comfortable.

The jingle bells chimed musically as the shop door opened and closed.

"Oh, Mr. Grieves," smiled a young woman with sea-green eyes. "I can't thank you enough for your suggestion! Willow loved _Sappho's Leap_. You always seem to know exactly what I need."

"It's my pleasure, Tara," he said, returning her smile from behind the register. "And how many times must I beg of you, please call me William?"

"And how many times must I beg of you, please come by for dinner?" She retorted.

He sighed and nodded, taking his glasses from their perch upon his nose to polish them on his shirt sleeve.

"Tell me when and I'll be there," he promised, giving in to the young woman's understated charm.

"Tonight. At 6."

He nodded again, returning the glasses to their proper place before they slid slowly to the edge of his nose, once again.

She reached into her purse and retrieved a business card of cream-colored parchment. It read "Maclay-Rose Herbs and Brews." Tara and her life-partner, Willow, owned a little store front on Miller that sold home remedies and, to those who were in the know, ingredients for spells and potions.

"We live upstairs," she told him. "Willow makes a mean vegetarian lasagna. Come hungry!"

He pushed his nose back into a new arrival as soon as Tara left. It was a book of Victorian Erotica that had recently been shipped from England. _The Sins of our Fathers_ would soon join the rest of his extensive collection of Victorian literature at home.

"I... I don't know, Willow," Buffy told her friend on the phone. "I... I just don't think I'm ready for this kind of thing."

"It's been two years, honey," Willow reminded her softly. "I hate to disagree, but really, it's time. You've turned into a recluse, Buffy. Let's start those baby steps. Baby step it over here for dinner tonight."

Buffy sighed, knowing she was defeated.

"I'm making my famous vegetarian lasagna and Tara baked a caramel cheesecake," she tried, well aware of Buffy's weakness for sweets. "And you can leave as early as you want. No resolve face or Wiccan guilt thrown your way if you aren't having a good time."

"Will," her friend interrupted. "You had me at cheesecake."

William glanced at his watch, surprised that it already read 6 PM. He had lost himself in a sea of customers and then a sea of tranquility as he delved back into his book. Tara would think that he had stood her up. He pulled her business card from his pocket and dialed her number quickly.

"I lost track of time," he explained when she answered. "Let me just lock up and I'll be on my way."

Buffy stared at the clock. It was already after 6 PM. She was already late. And she was still wearing one of Angel's old black t-shirts and a pair of ratty sweatpants. She looked around at the neatly stacked boxes and sighed. Willow would just have to understand.


	2. Chapter 2

_Two months later..._

"I'm so glad you decided to move closer," Willow smiled at her friend. "And this apartment... Wow! It's perfect!"

Buffy had to agree. She had been searching for something small and furnished. Something that was comfortable and clean. And something she could afford. It was near to the old bookstore she was leasing.

"There's something so familiar about this place," Willow said absently, her eyes scanning the room.

It wasn't her eyes that honed in on what it was, though. It was her soul. She felt it tugging at her, but she couldn't place this new and not unpleasant sensation. She shrugged it off and continued to help Buffy with the few boxes she'd decided to bring.

"I can't believe this is all you have," Willow blurted out.

"I, uh.." Buffy was trying to find the words. "Too hard..."

"I'm sorry," Willow gasped, turned to pull Buffy into her embrace. "I wasn't thinking. I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Buffy mumbled into her shoulder before reluctantly pulling away. She couldn't remember the last time she had let someone hug her.

"Sure you don't want me to stay a little longer?" Willow tried, before leaving.

"Nah," Buffy shrugged. "I'm good. I just want to curl up with a good book and a glass of Port."

"Okay," Willow smiled, giving her hand a squeeze before she left.

Buffy sighed and looked around the living room. The apartment was small, dark and cozy. She had fallen in love with the carved oak furniture and had nearly fallen over when she encountered the overflowing bookshelf that covered an entire wall from floor to ceiling and from end to end. She went to the kitchen and rifled around until she found a stemmed glass. She tried to remember where she had put the Port. She glanced around the kitchen and her eyes came to rest on a small wine rack that was still stocked by the previous owner.

There were several good Merlots, a Beaujolais and two Ruby Ports. She smiled at her good fortune and wondered what had happened to the person who had lived here before her. The leasing agent had only told her that he had been a mousy man who had mostly kept to himself. He had owned a small business down on Main Street. He'd always paid his rent on time and she rarely heard from him otherwise.

She poured herself a healthy glass of the Port and than wandered over to the expansive book collection. _Sins of the Father_. She raised and eyebrow and selected it, recognizing it as a rather risqué book for it's time. She took it back to the tufted leather sofa and settled in to read. She was a few chapters into the book when she felt someone looking at her.

She looked up into a pair of piercing blue eyes.

"Oh my God," she gasped, frozen in place. "Take what you want. J-just don't... Don't hurt me."

The man tilted his head to the side and glared at her like she was crazy.

"Bloody right, I'll take what I want. It's my house," he informed her haughtily. "And that's my '77 Port! I've been saving that for a special occasion!"

Finding some semblance of courage, Buffy guzzled down the wine and turned the empty glass on the man in front of her.

"You come one step closer and jail is going to become your special occasion, Bub!" Buffy threatened nervously.

William studied her, not sure what she intended to do with the glass, but not wanting to see a piece of his finest crystal broken. He put his hands up in front of him and stepped back.

"Put the glass down," he said softly.

She watched to see what he was going to do before making up her mind.

"Please," he begged. "That's Waterford, you dozy bint."

She took a closer look at it. Indeed, it was. Slowly, she placed it on the table, never looking away from William.

"How did you get in my apartment?" She wanted to know.

"I live here, Pet," he told her.

"You _so_ do not!" she childishly responded, hands on hips.

"Love," he tried again, noticing little items in his home that he hadn't put there himself. "This is my apartment. Thirty-two ought one Becker Street. I've lived here for nearly seven years. I own the little book shop on Main - Buy the Book."

Her eyes went wide and she was visibly trembling.

"You _so_ do not!" She whispered.

"Something's amiss here, Pet," he told her, his eyes darting wildly around his apartment.

He walked to his bedroom and took in the view of lingerie hanging from doorknobs and frilly new linens on his bed. When had she gotten in here to do all of this?

He walked back out into the living room and she was standing with a butcher knife in one hand and a cordless phone in the other.

"What are you doing?" He cried out, rushing toward her without thinking.

She lunged at him with the knife on pure instinct and screamed when it passed right through him as if he weren't there. She looked from his stomach back up to his eyes and lunged again. This time he didn't move. Instead, he watched, fascinated, as she made pass after pass through his incorporeal flesh.

"Well! Fancy that, Love!" He said, astounded. "I'm like the Cap'n of the Black Pearl. Sticks an' stones may break my bones, but swords can never hurt me."

The butcher knife dropped to the floor with a clamor and the phone was quick to follow. Buffy's hand flew to her mouth.

"You're... You're a..."

She reached her hand out and it passed right through him. She snatched it back and stared at her tingling hand, wiggling her fingers around before meeting his gaze.

"You're dead," she whispered.

"Bollocks," he said dismissively. "Breathing. See?"

He took in a few demonstrative puffs of air.

"And talking. Dead men can't talk," he pointed out.

She approached him with frightened fascination. He looked so real. He looked... solid. She took in every bit of William. His hair looked touchable, like it needed to be tousled. His glasses had slid to the bottom of his nose. She wanted to push them back up with her finger. His cheekbones longed to be traced. His lips were full and looked warm and inviting. His chest was heaving, evidence that he was breathing. He wore a grey weathered henley tucked into faded Levi's. Maroon Converse All-Stars were on his feet. She caught the glint of a gold wristwatch with a dark brown leather strap.

Her hand automatically went out to him again. He reached out his, as well, and stopped to meet hers. She could feel energy tingling against her palm, but she sensed nothing solid. His palm tingled, as well.

"Why is this happening?" she asked, backing away from him until her legs hit the couch. She fell back into it and leaned forward, elbows on knees.

"Why now?" she choked the words out on a sob. The bottle of Port was on the edge of the coffee table and the glass was sitting across from it. She poured herself a full glass and downed it in practically one swallow. She refilled the glass and did it again.

"Want to slow down with the Port, Love? 'S meant to be savored, not chugged," he told her.

She looked up at him with tremulous green eyes. He was a ghost. He was in her apartment. No, his apartment. No... her apartment. And from the looks of things, he wasn't going anywhere. He was watching her with great interest as she assaulted the wine.

"Couldn't you get someone else play the part of Mrs. Muir?" she asked with a shaky laugh.

"Not a ghostie, Love," he said defensively.

"Oh yeah?" she asked. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and threw it at him telling him to "think fast."

He reached out to catch the pillow and it fell right through his hands.

"I'm going crazy," she whispered, reaching for the bottle of Port. She decided to forgo formalities and chugged back a huge swallow straight from the bottle. "I'm surprised it's taken this long."

"Crazy? Maybe. Drunk? Quite possibly," William agreed. "But how's that explain the state _I'm_ in?"

Buffy closed her eyes tightly, still grasping the wine bottle.

"It's just my imagination. That's all it is. I've been alone so long that I'm beginning to make up imaginary friends. That's all. I'll just open my eyes and Mr. Cute and Ghostie will have disappeared," she mumbled.

She slowly opened her eyes.

"Still here, Love."

"WHY are you doing this to me?" she shouted. "Why is it you? Why isn't it Angel? Where is he? Where _is_ he!"

She was demanding and borderline hysterical. William had no idea who this Angel was. And he was a little afraid to ask.

"Why did they send _you_? What did I ever do to them?" she was frantically searching the ceiling with glazed eyes. "What did I do to _you_? All I wanted to do was make him happy and you took him away!"

"Pet, who are you talking to?" William cautiously asked.

She turned to face him her face, for one moment, very serious. She suddenly broke into a wide grin and began laughing.

"It's a trick," she whispered through a maniacal grin. "They're testing me. Only I win. I… win. So send him back! Send my husband back now!"

Husband? William watched the scene as it played out before him. This girl was hurt to the very core and the only comfort he had to offer was words. Words... not a bad idea.

"With spectacles upon his nose, he shuffles up and down; Of antique fashion are his clothes, his napless hat is brown," William began reciting softly.

"A mighty watch, of silver wrought, keeps time in sun or rain to the dull ticking of the thought within his dusty brain," he continued.

Buffy quieted and stared at him, entranced by his soothing voice and lyrical words. She recognized the poem. _The Bookworm, _by Buchanon.

She listened until the poem was complete, not wanting to interrupt his heartfelt recital.

"He pokes the dust, he sifts with care, he searches close and deep; Proud to discover, here and there, a treasure in the heap!"

She gave him a watery smile and he returned it with a slight nod.

"Who are you?" she whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

"William Grieves," he told her, immediately offering out his hand.

She stared at it for a moment before he realized what he was doing.

"Right, then. Forgot about that," he smiled sheepishly.

"This is your apartment?" she asked, uncertain that she could even begin to believe their plight.

"Yes, it is."

"And my store... It's... it's your store?" She asked.

"If you're talking about _Buy the Book_, then that would also be affirmative."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"And what happened to you? What's with the into-the-mist act?" She wanted to know.

William tried to come up with a good explanation, but couldn't.

"I... I don't rightly know, Love," he told her. "One moment I'm riding my bike to have dinner with the witches, and the next moment, I'm in my living room trying to suss out just which one of us really belongs here."

Buffy gave him a puzzled look. The witches? Dinner? Book store owner?

"You're... Oh my God..." Buffy's eyes went wide as her hand clamped over her mouth. "You're Tara's friend. You were coming to dinner that night that I cancelled. She told me about it the next day. Her friend who owned a shop on Main Street."

William smiled. Now they were getting somewhere. They had a common friend. Only what did she mean by "owned" a shop on Main Street? Why was she talking about him in past tense?

Buffy sensed the change in his body language immediately. He was shuffling. He seemed unnerved.

"William," she said softly. "Don't you remember what happened?"

"Of course, I do," he said a little too brightly. "Tara came in to thank me for a book suggestion and asked me to dinner. I got sidetracked reading _Sins of the Father_ and called to tell her I'd be late."

"And then what?" she asked.

"And then what?" he parroted. "And _then _what? And then I... I got on my bicycle... And I must have come back home to change. And I saw you sitting here and now I'm even later. Oh dear, I should really call and beg her forgiveness. I'm not usually so rude and I really must-"

"You were hit by a truck when it ran a stop sign at the corner of Main and Margate," Buffy whispered. "You died instantly."

"You're a liar!" he accused. "You break into my home... You... you perform some kind of voodoo to make me think I'm not real and... No. NO! You're lying!"

Buffy watched him tearfully as he continued to point his finger at her in a rage. Her heart broke when the doctors told her that Angel had died. He had been sick for so long that it shouldn't have come as a shock. Yet, the words "I'm sorry, Mrs. O'Connor" had hit her like a lead balloon.

"William," she whispered. "I'm not lying. You know I'm not lying. You remember it."

She knew he did because his face contorted as the memory hit him.

"Then why am I here?"

That was the million dollar question. Why _was_ her there? Was there something he needed to complete before his soul could rest? Neither of them knew the answer. Only the Powers that Be knew that.

"I don't know, Will," she sighed.

"William," he corrected her.

"Yeah… William."

"And your name, Pet? Never got that," he told her.

"Buffy," she said absently. "Buffy Summers-O'Connor."

"For Elizabeth?" he asked.

"For Buffy," she replied.

"Take it your mum had quite the sense of humor," he joked.

She turned to impale him with turbulent green eyes and he stepped back.

"My _mum_ was a wonderful person with a great sense of adventure and you'll be wise to keep your transparent trap shut about her," Buffy threatened.

"Was?" he asked, knowing he'd definitely inserted his foot into his gaping mouth.

"She died," Buffy said softly. "Three years ago. Brain cancer."

"And your husband?" he found himself asking.

She scowled and furiously scrubbed away the tears from her eyes with clenched fists.

"He left me, too," she said, her whisper angry and full of hate. Her eyes flashed up to lock onto his. "The irony of all this just kills me, you know? I pray and pray to die. And I get a ghost instead. Fate is cruel, William."

Her eyes were still fixed on his. The pain in them was soul-deep and appeared to be endless.

"Fate is cruel and God is twisted. He preys on the innocent and turns love to stone," she seethed, her lips barely moving.

William stared at her and suddenly his purpose was clear.

"Have you eaten anything, Buffy?" he asked.

"What?"

She snapped out of her trance and stared at him like he was insane.

"Eaten anything. Sustenance. Food. You've downed a good bit of strong wine. You need to eat," he told her, suddenly concerned for her welfare.

"I'm fine," she lied. "I think I just need some rest. If you'll excuse me..."

"Goodnight, then," he nodded, wishing she wouldn't go.

"I've got to be losing my mind," Buffy muttered, as she splashed her face with cold water. "He can't be real."

She changed into pyjamas and crept back out to the living room. He was gone.

"Will?" She called. "William?"

No response. She lifted the bottle of Port. It was nearly empty. Clearly, she'd had too much to drink and had been hallucinating.

She padded back down the hall to her bedroom and crawled under the covers. She pulled the chain on her table lamp and let out a shaky sigh.

"Oh Angel," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so lonely without you. Now I'm making up a harmless little ghostie man to provide me with conversation. You said you'd never leave me."


	4. Chapter 4

The sun filtered in through the serrated curtains. Buffy stretched languidly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her fists. She turned her head to her bedside clock. It was barely 8AM. She threw back the covers and forced herself out of bed.

That was always the hardest part. At first, she'd merely lay there. Sometimes, she'd stay in bed for days. Some of those days turned into weeks and then her sister, Dawn, started coming over and forcing her out of bed and into the world. After awhile, with Dawn came Willow. Then Xander started tagging along. Eventually, they'd managed to force her back into the land of the living if just barely.

The book store had been an impulse buy. Angel had left her a very well-to-do widow. He'd run a profitible detective agency from which she still received a share-holder's check.

She had been walking to the Espresso Pump to meet Willow for some java and conversation when she spied it. On a whim, she called the number from her cell phone and after talking to the realtor, who turned out to be Xander's girlfriend, Anya Jenkins, she realized she could afford the quaint and eclectic shop. And it had given her a purpose in life, once again. She showered and dressed quickly, throwing on a pair of faded jeans, a sweatshirt she'd bought on a trip to Ireland with Angel that bore the Guiness Drought logo and she slipped her feet into a pair of socks and sneakers. She pulled her damp hair into a scrunchie and headed toward the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She was scooping French Roast into the filter basket when she heard the deep rumble of his familiar voice.

"Sleep well, Pet?" He inquired politely.

Buffy jumped, scattering coffee grounds all over the counter and her hand.

"Would have started a fresh pot for you, but," he chuckled, in spite of himself. "Ghostie here."

"Go away, Will," she ground out, hoping that if she didn't turn around, he'd disappear.

"It's William, Love," he reminded her. "We've been through this before."

She closed her eyes tightly and counted to ten. She spun around and scanned the space in front of her for any sign of William. He wasn't there. She let out the breath she'd been holding and turned back to her coffee with a gasp.

"Didn't think you'd be rid of me that easily, did you, Pet?" He tsked. "My work here is far from done."

"What work?" She wanted to know.

What work, indeed. He didn't even know. But something told him he needed her to help him suss it all out. She was busy cleaning up the scattered grounds and finishing the task of making coffee. She pulled a mug with the words "I Gave" emblazoned in red across the front and the Sunnydale Blood Bank logo on the back from the cupboard and poured in a hefty amount of sugar. When the small carafe was full and the coffee had stopped dripping, she filled her mug and stirred it thoroughly.

She tried to ignore William's presence in the room, but it was difficult to do. The more she willed her eyes away, the more they sought out his. Finally, beyond irritation, she grabbed her purse and headed to the door with a loud sigh.

"Don't leave on my account," he called to her.


	5. Chapter 5

She had her key in the shop door when she heard him again.

"You know, it's a trick door," he told her when he saw her struggling with the lock. "Just smack it above the deadbolt with the heel of your hand and it will loosen right up."

She chose to ignore him, fiddling with the stubborn lock until, out of anger, she pounded her fist on the door. William watched as she turned the key and then the doorknob. Without a backward glance, she told him not to look so smug. She slammed the door upon entry, not bothering to wait for him to enter behind her.

She shrugged off her parka and hung it on a coat rack behind the antiquated register. She tucked her purse on a shelf near her stool and parked herself for the day. She was three chapters into one hell of a bodice-ripper for Victorian times when she felt his glare.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at me all day," she asked tightly, never removing her eyes from the book in her hand.

"What if I decide to do just that?" He challenged. "Not like you can make me leave."

She snapped her eyes up to his and slammed the book down on the counter. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in a series of numbers.

"Good morning," she said brightly into the phone. "There's a little problem that I need some help with. Can you come over? Of course she can come, too. Thank you."

She snapped the phone shut and smiled triumphantly at William.

"Call up an exorcist, Love?" He teased.

She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Perhaps I did," she told him.

They stood staring at each other for several long moments and then the jingle bells at the shop door clamored.

"Are you okay, Buffy?" Willow asked worriedly.

Her hand was wrapped around Tara's and their cheeks were flushed pink from the cool air outside and the quick manner in which they'd sprinted to Buy the Book.

"I've been seeing someone," Buffy announced calmly.

Willow's face broke into an ecstatic grin.

"Oh, Buffy! That's wonderful!" She gushed, running to hug her friend.

Tara searched Buffy's face over Willow's shoulder and then turned to William. She lifted her hand and glanced it over his ghostly form making him wonder aloud if she could see him.

"Honey," Tara called softly. "I don't think that's what she meant."

Willow slowly pulled away from Buffy and looked to the empty area that held Tara spellbound.

"Oh William," she whispered, her hand smoothing over his arm. "I can feel you."

"He's here?" Willow asked.

"Of course, he's here," Buffy groused. "He refuses to leave and he's just about on my last nerve."

"Shall I remind you just whose book store this is, Pet?" He snapped at her.

She balled her fists and put them angrily on her hips as she stalked over to him.

"I've got an iron-clad lease that says it's mine and you'd best remember that," she snarled at him, accentuating her words with jabs of her finger through his chest.

"By default," he said, throwing up his arms in exasperation. "By bloody default. You act as if I wished to be mowed down whilst I rode my bicycle to Red and Glinda's that night. Wasn't my bloody fault that I was run down!"

"I never said it was!" She shouted back, equally upset. "But now you've insinuated your way into _my _store, _my _home and _my_ life! I was just fine without you!"

She was screaming, waving her arms around at the air. To any other bystanders, she would have appeared insane.

"Were you really?" He asked so quietly, he wondered if she even heard him.

Her glare went stony. He didn't know anything about her. He didn't know a thing. All she wanted to do was punch him in his presumptuous nose.

"Get out of my store and get out of my life," she told him, her voice dripping with venom.

She turned to Willow.

"Get him out of here. Exorcise him! Bind him! Turn him to dust and stick him in a mayonaise jar for all I care! Just get him out of my life!" She choked, the sobs catching in her throat.

Willow stared desperately at Tara. Tara was much better at sensing and containing spirits than she was. Tara was still trying to establish where, exactly, William was.

"William, you shouldn't goad her," she scolded him, her eyes blindly raking over him. "If you can't play nice with Buffy, then perhaps you should leave."

"Bloody hell I'll leave!" He told her, knowing quite well that the only one who heard him was Buffy.

"He says he's not going to leave," Buffy sniffled dejectedly.

"What?" He asked, staring at her disappointed face. "I'm such a palsy that you can't stand to have me near?"

"You're DEAD, you idiot! You're not supposed to be here! This is unnatural! This is wrong! You're supposed to be in Heaven or Hell! Not here!" Buffy shouted.

"Being with you _is_ Hell," he retorted. "It's a wonder any one would want to be in your company at all let alone pledge his whole life to you!"

He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Her face crumpled and she fell to her knees as if she had been mortally wounded. Her green eyes were a watercolor as the tears spilled out of them and onto her cheeks.

"Buffy, I--"

"You've said enough," she managed to grit out at him.

"I believe I have."


	6. Chapter 6

He stepped back and watched the witches do their work.

"His spirit is trapped, Buffy," Tara explained to the girl. "He can't help being here. And I know William. He's not the kind of guy to go where he isn't wanted."

Buffy knew that. Truly, she did. But he was making her hurt in ways she didn't know she could. He was bringing back memories of Angel and of that comfortable companionship between a man and a woman and she couldn't bear it.

"Maybe we can get a hold of Giles at the Magic Box and kick into research mode," Willow suggested. "It's a long-shot, but if anyone can figure this out, it's Giles."

"Who is this Giles bloke?" William found himself asking Buffy, as her eyes closed.

"I don't want to bring him into this," she told the witches. "Please. He's been through enough."

"But he can help," Willow reasoned. "He's an expert at this sort of thing. And Buffy, he loves you. When is the last time you even made an attempt to see him?"

"We have nothing to say to one another," she lied.

"You have... A million things to say!" Willow told her, astonished that she would brush him off so casually. "Do you think you're the only one who hurts?"

Buffy knew she was right. She nodded her head in resolution and grabbed her purse and coat. She turned the sign at the door to "closed" and waited for the witches to follow her out.

The walk to the Magic Box in the brisk weather made Buffy's eyes sting. She knew it was partly due to the niggling of tears and the apprehension she had of seeing him again. The last time had been when Angel died.

Tara slowly pushed open the door to the Magic Box. It smelled of musty tomes and assorted dried herbs. Classical music was wafting softly from a small radio on the counter. Giles had a penchant for NPR radio. Buffy smiled at the memories of him trying to teach her to waltz in her living room, her bare feet standing on his shod ones.

"Welcome to the Magic Box. If there's anything you need -- " Giles stopped his descendence down the stairs as soon as he looked up.

He had been casually polishing his glasses on his tweed coat sleeve, an idiosyncrasy Buffy hadn't realized she'd missed until that very moment. Without another thought, she ran to him and threw herself against his chest.

He replaced his glasses, surprised at her visit and at her overwhelming display of emotion. His arms wrapped tentatively around her as he realized she was crying.

"Buffy," he said softly, both happy and confused by her sudden re-entry to his life. "I've... I've missed you, too."

His eyes slipped closed and a small smile threatened to break across his normally staunch face.

"Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, dear one," Giles began cautiously as he pulled her away from him. "But why are you here?"

Buffy stared into his eyes and shook her head.

"I should have come to see you sooner," she cried, apologetically. "I shouldn't have stayed away. I shouldn't have ignored your calls. Oh, Giles!"

The tears overwhelmed her. The memories of their life together came flooding back and Buffy couldn't dam the overflow no matter how hard she tried.

"I thought that if I shut out everyone... If I removed everyone and everything... I thought it would all disappear," she sobbed, gripping his arms tightly. "I thought it would all go away... That the hurt would be gone. It's not, Giles. It won't go. It won't stop and I hurt so bad."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders protectively and led her to the large round table they had spent many nights around drinking tea and researching spells for customers. He helped her to sit and then sat beside her. He looked up and realized that she wasn't alone.

"Tara, Willow," he smiled, motioning for them to join them. "It's so good to see you both."

He turned his attention back to Buffy and suddenly bristled. He looked to the front door. It was closed. His eyes quickly scanned the room and William could swear that they landed right on him.

"Something feels off," Giles mused aloud. "Something... Something electric. It's as though there's some sort of energy crackling around us."

"That would be Will," Buffy sniffled, her voice full of agitation. "He showed up at my apartment last night and refuses to go away."

"It's William," William groused, shooting her a dirty look.

"I wasn't talking to you!" Buffy shot back, annoyed that this man could irritate her so easily.

"Will?" Giles asked, his eyes darting up to meet Willow's.

"William Grieves," Willow told him. "William owned _Buy the Book_. He also was the man who lived in Buffy's apartment. You probably remember him. Kind of quiet guy who rode his bicycle everywhere."

Giles searched his memory to put the name with the face.

"Anna's and Charles' boy?" He asked.

"Yes!" William shouted out, delighted to hear his parents' names.

"He says yes," Buffy told him, trying to brush off William's obvious enthusiam.

"Lovely people, the Grieves'. His mother was a seamstress. She worked out of her home. Charles was a retired admiral with the British Navy. They moved to the States when William began college. Did you know that he received his doctorate from Harvard and then came back to Sunnydale to open _Buy the Book_? Brilliant boy. His choice to come back to Sunnydale and settle into a small, simple business surprised his family, but no matter what he did, they were very, very proud of him."

"Where are they?" Buffy asked. "His parents, where are they now?"

She was looking at William while she spoke. He looked away from her, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Charles had a heart attack shortly after _Buy the Book_ opened. It was sudden and so unexpected. He was a fit man. Didn't drink, nor did he smoke more than a good cigar on a special occasion. William cared for his mother after that," he told Buffy.

"What happened to Anna?" She asked softly, her eyes now locked on William's.

"She died in her sleep," Giles said, not really sure of the cause of her death. "Supposedly of a broken heart."

William's eyes were glassy with tears and he crossed his arms defensively in front of him.

"What really happened, Will?" She asked him, sensing that Giles only had part of the story.

"She died in her sleep," he whispered. "Of a broken heart and a diazapam overdose."

Buffy's fingers fluttered to her lips. Grief clutched her heart and something made her want to pull William to her and hold him close. Instead, she let her hand fall from her mouth and she hugged her arms tightly around herself.

"Oh, Will," she choked out, her voice thick with understanding.

"Buffy, have you been alright?" Giles asked cautiously. "I've worried so often about your welfare. The last time we saw each other... I was afraid you were burying your distress."

She shrugged noncomittally.

"I suppose I've been better," she said honestly. "And I know I've been worse. Giles, it's all... It just seems to all be catching up with me."

"Did you think you could just wish it away?" He asked.

"I don't know," she sighed, letting her head drop into her hands.

"I loved her, too," he said softly, tears misting his blue-grey eyes. "You three girls were my world, Buffy. You were all I had."

"I know," she replied. "I know, Giles. So many times, I've picked up the phone to call you. Every time, I hang up before it even begins to ring. Dawn told me you have tea together a couple of times a week."

"We do," Giles smiled. "She's been just as confused by your disappearing act as I've been. It was hard enough when Joyce died. You withdrew, but you didn't disappear. But after Liam's death... I could have helped you through it, Buffy."

"I know, Giles. I know," she admitted to him. "I wasn't ready. I don't know if I'm even ready now. But William seems to think he's here for a reason."

"Perhaps he is," Giles smiled at the young woman who was as close to a daughter as he had ever gotten. "If he's somehow trapped between two worlds, there may be a reason. His work here may not be done."

"That's where you come in, Mate," William voiced.

Buffy's head turned to look at him again. She nodded and turned back to Giles.

"He seems to think that's where you come in," she told him. "Tara thinks that his spirit is trapped. Aren't there any spirit-be-gone spells?"

He smiled at her interesting play on words. He'd missed her misuse of the English language.

"I'm sure we can find something to help William onto his righteous path," Giles affirmed with a nod of his head.


	7. Chapter 7

The shop door opened with a flurry of commotion. Anya thrust herself through it calling for Giles.

"Rupert? Rupert?"

She stopped and took in the tableau before her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen Buffy, Tara and Willow gathered around the round table with Giles. In fact, the last time they were gathered like that had been shortly before the wedding that never was.

"Buffy?" She asked, shocked to see her actually sitting there. "Buffy!"

She ran over and wrapped her arms tightly around her friend.

"Tara! Willow!" She hugged each of them in turn. "This is... This is wonderful! I'm so glad Rupert called you all!"

"Anya," Giles said, his voice trying to warn her to stop.

"I can't believe you're all here! I told him you'd understand and that you'd be just as happy as we are!"

Anya turned to Giles and sat herself in his lap. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him into a kiss that was better left in the bedroom. Giles pulled away from her vice-like grip and blushed an appropriate shade of red.

Buffy's eyebrow was raised expectantly. Somebody had better start talking, she thought.

"I, er... Oh... Oh dear," Giles stammered.

Off came his glasses as he began polishing them furiously on his sleeve. Buffy reached out and took the poor, abused spectacles from his clammy hand.

"Giles," she said, her voice very serious. "Want to make with the splainy?"

Anya looked from Buffy to Giles. He hadn't told her. Buffy didn't know. Anya graciously slipped from Giles' lap and she went to sit beside Tara.

"I stopped by the store the other day," Anya told Tara. "Amy said that you were out running errands. I've been meaning to call... I... It's been so long. I don't think I realized how much I missed you all until this very moment."

Tara smiled at Anya, surprised by her sudden sentimentality. Anya's eyes were clouded by tears.

"Stupid hormones," she grumbled, swiping at them with a manicured hand. "I'm not even out of my first trimester and I'm either crying or peeing all the time."

Buffy's jaw dropped at Anya's admission. She turned to Giles and watched as his face turned even redder than she thought it could.

"Again, I say... Want to make with the splainy?" Giles ducked his head down and tried to gain some sort of composure.

"Anya is... That is, to say..."

"I've got a bun in the oven!" She beamed proudly. "Little Rupie's just seven months away from his big debut."

"Darling, we've discussed this. Girls are predominant in my family. Don't set your heart on a boy, my love. Chances are our he's a she," he chided gently.

"Giles," Buffy said impatiently.

"Ahem, uh, yes," he said, clearing his throat. "It would seem that, um, Anya is carrying my child. We... We were planning to call you regarding the wedding."

"Uh-huh," Buffy nodded, dumbfounded. "Just when were you going to do that? After it was over and Little Rupie was planning a wedding of his own?"

"No, no. Of course not," Giles told her. "I... I just wanted to... Oh, Buffy. I wanted to tell you from the start. But I couldn't reach you. I asked Dawn to keep it to herself. It'snot something I wanted you to learn second-hand. It wasn't planned."

"The baby or the wedding?" Buffy wanted to know.

"Oh, the wedding's been planned for awhile," Anya smiled. "The Troika has done a wonderful job. Andrew found me the most excellent caterer. And Jonathan is just amazing at pulling together the music! Warren has the old firehouse booked. You know the one that overlooks Lake Dale? It's absolutely beautiful at dusk!"

"And the baby?" Buffy asked.

"The baby just kind of took us by surprise," Giles admitted. "But it is a truly blessed surprise."

Buffy watched as he met Anya's eyes and smiled warmly into them. It was very apparent that they were very much in love. But when had this happened?

"What... When, Giles?" Buffy wanted to know.

Her mother had been dead for three years. She had no idea that Giles had moved on. Had it been while she was so wrapped up in Angel's care?

"Anya and I had a working relationship," Giles told the girls. "As you know, she owns half of this store. After Joyce... After your mother died, she was a wonderful friend. Even before her wedding to Xander was called off. Sure she can be crass and bold and sometimes a bit on the lewd side..."

"Hey!" Anya scowled.

"But she's also charming, intelligent, vibrant and beautiful. She is wise beyond her years. She was there for me when I needed comfort and when I needed someone to tell me the truth," Giles continued. "When I thought I couldn't crawl any further into my bottle of scotch, Anya took it from my hands and smacked me over the head with it. Figuratively, of course. But she made me stop feeling sorry for myself. She taught me that life isn't bliss, it's just living."

"And you fell in love?" Willow smiled, reaching for Tara's hand.

"And, so we did. We fell in love," Giles told her bestowing a warm smile on her.

"So, why _are_ you here?" Anya asked. "Not that Rupert and I aren't overjoyed to see you all. There must be something that brought you here."

Buffy nodded.

"Does it have anything to do with pouty pants over there in the corner?"

Buffy's eyebrows furrowed as she turned to where Anya was looking. She was looking directly at William.

"You can see him?" Buffy asked.

"She can see me?" William echoed.

"Of course I can see you," Anya said, looking at them both like they'd grown another head. "You look wonderful. Death becomes you, William."

William's jaw dropped when he realized that not only could she see him, but she could hear him, too.

"How is it possible that she can see and hear me and the others can not?" He wanted to know.

"It's the whole pregnancy things. Throws off all of a woman's chemicals. We've got a keener sense of smell, our eyesight is sharper and our hearing is incredible. It makes sense that our sense of the paranormal is heightened as well. And I can't even begin to tell you about our sex drive! I thought that Rupert gave incredible orgasms before! Now, it's just unreal! I mean--"

"Anya, darling, I do believe they get the picture," Giles interrupted, embarrassed by his fiancee's bawdiness once again.

"So what brings you to the land of the living?" Anya wanted to know.

"That's exactly what we're trying to suss out right now," Giles told her.

Anya looked around the table at the girls and Giles and then turned her eyes back to William.

"Well, it's fairly obvious, don't you think, Rupert?" She asked.

Giles shook his head, not knowing what Anya was talking about, which wasn't unusual.

"He's stuck between two planes -- two dimensions, if you will. Before he can move forward, he must perform a final deed in this purgatorial dimension."

"Purgatorial?" Willow asked, skeptically.

"Purgatorial," Anya affirmed with a quick nod of her head. "What? You thought this was the best it gets? All this world is meant to be is a waiting room between Heaven and Hell. How you live your days out here decides which way you'll go. It seems that William here is on the fence. Figure out this final deed and carry it out and you'll have your first class ticket through the Pearly Gates. But if you don't..." She made devil's horns of her fingers and perched them atop her head.

"Oddly enough, that makes perfect sense," Giles told her, astonished at his fiancee's insight. "But how long does he have to complete the deed?"

Anya shrugged.

"What? I'm supposed to know everything? Probably the same amount of time that the Powers That Be had to create this whole debacle of a universe," she supposed. "Seven days and seven nights. I mean, it is used over 700 times in the Bible, so that would make some smidgen of sense. You know... Seven churches, seven spirits, seven trumpets... It's used 54 times in the Book of Revelations alone. When Israel took the city of Jericho, God told them to march around the city seven times. Job had seven sons."

They all stared at her with their mouths open, even William.

"Even Prince got the whole seven thing," Anya continued casually.

"Where does she come up with this stuff?" Buffy asked, amazed at the knowledge that poured out of Anya's usually obscene mouth.

"She's right, Pet," William said, remembering Bible verses and the significance of seven. "She's bloody right."

"Of course I'm right," Anya said with a self-satisfied grin. "So... How long have you been harrassing Buffy?"

"He showed up at my apartment last night," she answered for him.

"One night down and half a day," Anya told them before turning back to William. "Looks like you've got a lot of work to do, William. You're off to a great start, by the way."


	8. Chapter 8

William wasn't sure if Anya was on the level or being sarcastic. He looked to Buffy for clarification, but she darted his gaze. His eyes swept around the the table where the young women were gathered around the shop keeper. They were all engaged in their own lively conversations and the shop keeper beamed at them all with fatherly pride. He looked back to Anya and she was smiling at him.

"What? You doubted me?" she asked.

Something told William that Anya wasn't just your run-of-the-mill pregnant woman. There was something in her eyes that sparkled a little too brightly. There were things that she'd known that shouldn't have seemed so obvious.

"What are you?" he whispered, his eyes boring curiously into hers.

Anya left the circle and crossed the room to William.

"I'm exactly what you can be if you play this out the way it's intended," she told him. "And maybe, just maybe, if you do this right… you'll even remember when it's all over and done."

Anya flashed him a secret smile and then returned to her seat beside Giles. William couldn't help but watch the way she interacted with the group. Clearly, she was at ease with the bunch of them. She'd been a part of their lives for many years. But she had an odd preoccupation with Buffy. She stole glances at her that were laden with pride, sentimentality and something he couldn't yet name. Perhaps it was their association with Giles. Perhaps Anya couldn't help but look at her differently knowing that she was to become, for all practical purposes, the girl's stepmother.

William's eyes widened and he began watching the interaction between the women and the man with even greater interest. No… it couldn't be…

Anya looked over to him and nodded almost imperceptibly. Her smile and raised eyebrow answered his implicit question before she turned her attention back to her fiancé and her friends.

The jangle of the bell above the shop door brought him out of his daze. A young woman came bustling in, her arms loaded down with shopping bags. She dropped them just inside the doorway and stopped to admire the setting before her.

"This certainly isn't what I was expecting," she grinned.

Buffy stood and went to her, taking her into a heartfelt embrace. Everyone was talking at once, the young woman was chattering on excitedly about the wedding and the baby and the others were asking how she, of all people, could have kept this secret for so long.

"Because Giles and Anya asked me not to say anything," she shrugged, heading to the table, hand in hand with Buffy.

"I see you're more involved than Giles let on," Buffy said with a small smile.

"One of us had to be," the young woman answered without contempt, but pointedly. "You had too much going on, Buffy. Giles and Anya needed me. And they need you, too. We just all wanted to give you some time. How did you find out? Did Giles call you? Did you run into Anya somewhere? We were all so afraid of that… you know how she can't keep a secret about anything."

"Hey!" Anya interjected. "I can, too, Dawn! I haven't said a thing about Buffy's little friend yet!"

Buffy's head went to her hands and she shook it at Anya's outburst. She'd meant to break this to Dawn slowly instead of having it thrust upon her.

"What little friend?" Dawn wanted to know. "Are you seeing someone?"

Buffy couldn't mistake the glimmer of hope in her sister's eyes for anything else.

"You could say that," she said quietly.

"That's wonderful!" Dawn gushed. "Oh, Buffy! I know it's been so hard for you since mom and then Angel…"

William watched Anya's expression as Dawn referred to her mother. She was playing with the girl's hair and smiling slyly.

"No offense, Anya," she quickly retreated.

"Dawn," Anya said, her face turning very serious. "Don't ever apologize for acknowledging your mother. Without her, you and Buffy wouldn't be the wonderful young women you are today. And Rupert… he wouldn't be who he is either. Your mother helped shape that."

Buffy turned to Anya with a look on her face that clearly said: who are you and what have you done with the Anya I once knew?

Dawn was beaming. Something told William that she and Anya were a lot closer than either had let on to the rest of the gang.

"In fact," Anya smiled, her eyes searching Giles' for permission. "There is something that Rupert and I wanted to ask you both, now that we're all together and I hope you will take this in the spirit that it us intended."

Buffy waited, trying not to hold her breath, for whatever this ominous question was. Then, Anya did something that surprised her. She knelt in front of her chair, the way her mother had done when she was a child, and tipped up her chin with her hand.

"Buffy," Anya said softly. "We want you to be alright with this, but we understand if you aren't."

A sense of peace Buffy hadn't felt in a long time washed over her at the fleeting touch of Anya's hand. It wasn't something she could explain, but it was something utterly familiar.

"Rupert and I would like to name the baby Joyce, if she is, indeed, a girl," Anya smiled.

"And Liam, if he's a boy," Giles continued for his fiancée.

Buffy's eyes went glassy and she felt Willow's hand on her shoulder, intended for moral support.

"You don't have to make a decision now," Anya continued. "We just wanted to put that out there."

Buffy looked over to her sister. Dawn was standing next to Giles expectantly watching her sister's face.

Buffy nodded.

"I would…" She had to clear her voice and start again. "I would like that a lot. That's… very kind of you, Anya. Of both of you."

"Buffy," Anya told her friend. "I meant it when I said that your mother helped shape you girls and Rupert. Your mother is why we're all here today, Buffy. It was her selflessness and her love and the sense of family she instilled in all of us. She affected me, perhaps, more than I was aware until now."

William stared down at Anya as two forms blurred into her one. The one, the solid one, was the Anya he had seen since she'd walked into the shop. The other, was an older woman with a soft, familiar smile and kind eyes. The ghostly form began slipping away from Anya at Buffy's acceptance of the baby being named for her mother or her husband. When she was wholly separate from Anya's being, she glided to William.

"My work here is done," she smiled at the young man, taking him in as if she wanted to remember every detail that was William. "The rest is up to you."

He looked at her, realizing who she was.

"Where will you go, Joyce?" he asked quietly, hoping Buffy wouldn't hear him.

Joyce smiled and looked at Anya's still-flat stomach.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked him.

He nodded that he could.

She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "The baby's a girl."


	9. Chapter 9

William watched as Joyce walked back over to Anya. The two figures converged again. He could swear he saw a slight glow illuminate Anya's stomach before Joyce completely disappeared. His jaw hung slack and it wasn't until he heard Buffy calling his name that he was able to close his mouth and come to his senses again.

"Will!" she called, trying to snap him out of his daze.

He finally looked up at her and saw her brow furrow, silently questioning where he'd been.

"Right here, Love," his voice coming out softer and more tender than he'd even intended.

Buffy's eyes widened slightly.

"Who are you talking to?" Dawn wanted to know.

Buffy smiled and turned back to her sister.

"The man I've been seeing," she said.

Dawn looked around the room before letting her eyes rest on Buffy's smiling face.

"The only man in here is Giles," she told her sister.

"No… yes... uh…"

Buffy looked to Willow and Tara for help. The Wiccans smiled at their friend and then Tara leaned across the table.

"It seems that Buffy has inherited a not-so-dead secret admirer," she joked.

"Hey! I'm not so sure about the whole admirer nonsense," William interjected.

Anya stifled an amused giggle. She could swear that William was blushing.

"Oh, settle down, Casper," Anya told him lightly. "I mean, it's going to take some doing to explain to Dawn that her sister's new friend is the imaginary sort."

"He's not imaginary!"

"I'm not imaginary!"

Buffy and William yelled out their defensives simultaneously.

"Touchy, touchy!" Anya said, putting her hands out in front of her in a gesture that said 'okay, I'm backing off.'

"NOT touchy!" Buffy insisted. "Just… stressed by this whole thing."

"So, let me see if I've got this right; you've got an invisible man following you around and, apparently, only you and Anya can see him?" Dawn asked, not discounting anything.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, it sounds silly when you say it out loud…"

"Not so much," Dawn smiled. "In this family, anything is possible."

Dawn grinned at Giles and Anya before locking eyes with her sister.

"So, why you? Why now? Why this guy? And who is this guy anyhow? Did you know him, you know, before…?" Dawn made a slashing gesture across her throat with her finger and a loud hacking noise to further illustrate her point.

"That was uncalled for," William said with a mixture of annoyance and amusement in his voice.

"But quite effective," Anya told him, enjoying how everything was playing out.

"Well?" Dawn said, looking from Buffy to Anya, waiting for some answers.

"Um, his name is William Grieves. He owned _Buy the Book. _He also lived in my apartment. I… I never met him before last night."

Dawn looked like she was turning it all over in her head.

"If you're going to get a ghost… why not Angel?" Dawn asked the question that had been on Buffy's mind since the moment she'd lain eyes on William.

"Good question," Buffy told her sister before turning to Anya, who seemed to hold all the answers. "Why not my Angel?"

"Well, I would assume because his work hereis done. Or because he was needed somewhere more important. Or… or…" Anya shook her head and shrugged. "What am I? The Shell Answer Man?"

"The what?" Dawn asked.

Giles pulled off his glasses and began polishing them on his sleeve. He was the only one old enough to catch Anya's reference. It made him wonder how she had even known who the Shell Answer Man was. It's something Joyce would have said.

"The Shell Answer Man, Dawn," Giles told the girl. "He was a spokesperson for the Shell gasoline company and… oh, it's neither here nor there. What we need to do is figure out William's purpose."

"Getting us all together, I'd say," Dawn told him as she looked around the table. "I mean, the only person missing is Xander."

Buffy's mouth fell open and closed again. Xander. When was the last time she'd seen him? Had it been at the wedding that never was? She couldn't remember. She looked over to Anya to see if his name had affected her at all.

"But that's quickly remedied," she continued, pulling out her cell phone.

She pulled up his number and hit send. And Buffy noticed that it didn't take her very long to find it.

"Hey, it's me," Dawn said into the phone. "No, everything's fine. Uh-huh. No, not at all. Xander, calm down… this is a good call. Not an I'm punking out on lunch tomorrow kind of call."

She covered the mouthpiece and whispered loudly to her friends that she had a lunch date with Xander the next day.

"No, I'm at the Magic Box. You should stop by. Yes, she is. I think we're all past that. Aren't you? Good. Hurry. Uh-huh. No, I'm really not trying to cancel on you in front of a crowd so that you don't make a scene. Okay. Bye."

Dawn flipped her phone closed and shoved it into her pocket all the while shaking her head.

"He's, uh… he hasn't had much luck with dating. He's always so paranoid that he's going to be stood up that he ends up overcompensating and then, well… he ends up getting stood up," Dawn tried explaining.

"Are you dating him?" Willow blurted out excitedly.

"Uh, not… um… well…"

Dawn was blushing profusely.

"Oh how wonderful!" Willow continued. "I saw him about a month ago and he was just so depressed! How wonderful would it be for you and Xander… Xander and you! Awww!"

"Honey," Tara said, trying to reign in her girlfriend.

"Just… don't freak him out," Dawn said, her pink cheeks indicating that this wasn't just some lunch date to her.

"I think that Giles and Anya will be enough to freak him out," Buffy pointed out.

"Oh, he already knows about that," Anya said dismissively.

All eyes turned to Giles' pregnant fiancée. She seemed unconcerned by what she'd just blurted out.

"How do you know that?" Willow asked.

"We ran into him about a month ago at the Espresso Pump. Probably it could have been ugly had he not been… with…"

Anya turned to look at Dawn and Giles did the same. It seemed that there were a lot of secrets and omissions of information floating amongst the friends.

"Like we _knew_! Come on!" Anya said defensively.

"Knew what?" asked the boy in question as he walked through the door to the Magic Box.

"That you and Dawn were exchanging orgasms," Anya accused.

Xander's eyes went big and round as dinner plates. Dawn blushed and began stammering out unintelligible defenses.

"You don't have to defend our… our… what we have, Dawn," Xander told her, before shooting a dirty look at his ex-fiancee.

"Oh, for crying out loud, children," William suddenly burst out. "Can't we just get on with this?"

Anya and Buffy turned to find him invading Buffy's personal space.

"Don't get your… knickers in a twist!" Anya scolded him. "We'll get to you!"

"Get what to me? And what in the Hell are knickers?" Xander wanted to know, hands on hips, eyes on Anya.

"She's not talking to you, you git," William said, clearly more irritated than he'd been before.

"What's a git?" Buffy asked him.

"What are you talking about? No wonder I stopped hanging out with all of you! You're all crazy!" Xander yelled, throwing his arms in the air.

Anya stood a little too quicky and felt her pulse flutter. Giles was immediately there to steady her.

"Please, children," he said, trying to be calm for his fiancée. "Anya, darling, please. You need to sit down and relax. It's not good for…"

Giles stopped abruptly before raising his eyes to meet those of one very angry young man.

"Not good for what, Giles?" Xander said stiffly, challenge in his eyes.

"The baby," he finished softly. "It's not good for the little one."

Xander looked like he wanted to bolt. His body was rigid, but poised in flight form. He should have been expecting this. He'd known they were together. And when he had told Anya that he didn't want to have children two days before their long-awaited Spring wedding, the pain in her eyes was something he never wanted to face again. _I do_, she'd said. There was no compromise to be made. Flowers were cancelled, gifts were sent back, phone calls were made to friends and family saying that something unexpected came up and that no, they would not be rescheduling. He'd packed his suitcase and went back to the basement he'd once lived in at his parents' house; back to his father coming home to his drunk mother and telling her she was useless… back to fists cracking plaster and bones. One day they'd kill each other. No child should ever have to live through that.

"Congratulations," he finally said, although his voice betrayed his well-wishes.

Anya and Giles exchanged a guilty look.

"No, really," Xander told them, stepping back with his hands palm out in front of him, a defensive gesture he'd picked up from Anya. "I wish you both the best. Seems that Rupert here really is the better man. He could give you what I wouldn't."

Xander's use of the older man's first name came as a surprise. He still looked like he wanted to run. But he didn't.

"This isn't why I called you, you know," Dawn told him softly, tentatively touching her hand to his arm.

She was relieved when he let her slide it down into his own hand. He gave her hand an appreciative squeeze.

"Buffy's been seeing someone," Willow blurted out.

Xander's smile was rueful. Seems that everyone was moving on. He turned and looked at Dawn. Maybe he should, too. Maybe he should take their lunch dates a little more seriously. Maybe he should take their coffee dates a little more seriously. Maybe he should take Dawn a little more seriously.

"That's… that's wonderful, Buff," he sighed, sounding defeated. "Dare I ask who the lucky guy is?"

Buffy turned to see William waiting expectantly behind her.

"Um, it's not… that simple," she said shakily, never taking her eyes from William's. "It's… he's…"

"He's a ghost, Xander," Dawn said a little too brightly.

Xander looked around the room waiting for the other shoe to fall. This had to be a joke. He zeroed in on Tara. Tara wasn't in the habit of lying. She nodded her head slightly letting him know that this was, indeed, very real.

"Is it… is it Angel?" he whispered, not sure why he was whispering.

"Why the Hell does everyone assume it's got to be Peaches, huh?" William growled defensively.

"His name is Angel and it's a natural assumption, Captain Snarktastic!" Buffy growled back, just as defensively.

"Is he here?" Xander whispered, leaning into Dawn.

"Uh, pretty much, yeah. At least that's what I'm told," Dawn told him.

"And, uh… why is it we're being so calm about this? I mean…" Xander dropped his voice even lower. "Maybe this is just her imagination."

"It's NOT my imagination!" Buffy shouted, standing for full effect.

"Anya can see him," Tara told him.

"Oh, and that just seals the deal! The only woman on earth who's deathly afraid of BUNNIES can see him," Xander barked out without thinking.

He got a glimpse of Ripper as Giles fleyed him with his eyes. Luckily for the boy, the older man was able to control his temper.

"My fiancée's irrational fearshave no bearing on this matter, Xander," Giles told him tightly. "The fact is, she can see him and she's managed to figure out his purpose."

"Yeah? What's that?" Xander asked just as tersely as his arms came to fold defensively across his chest.

"This is the first time in more than a year that we've all been in the same room," Dawn smiled, not willing to let Xander's irritation ruin the moment for her.

"That's… it's…"

Xander was stammering. He looked around at the people he once thought he couldn't live without. Willow, with her resolve face firmly in place. Tara, with that familiar look of quiet countenance. Buffy, who looked tired and older from the pain she'd suffered. Anya, who looked radiant beside an equally radiant Giles. Dawn… the girl who had turned into a beautiful young woman and who seemed genuinely interested in him beyond the school-girl crush she'd once had… how could he have stayed away from these people for so long?

"Who… who is it? Who's this… ghost?" Xander wanted to know.

"Remember the guy who owned _Buy the Book_?" Dawn asked him.

"Yeah… Grieves. He hired my company to do some remodeling work for him awhile back," Xander told her.

"You know Will?" Buffy found herself asking.

She was surprised that Giles, Tara, Willow and all Anya seemed to have some sort of connection to him.

"Yeah," Xander nodded. "You remember him, Dawn. We ran into him at the Espresso Pump. Kind of quiet, British guy. Not as uptight as Giles, but all with the polite and reserved."

Giles shot Xander a dark look but let the boy's comment go.

"Oh! I do! He rode a bicycle around town," the younger Summers smiled. "He's kind of cute in a smarty-pants kind of way."

Buffy stuck her tongue out at Dawn.

"Well, look at that," William grinned. "Looks like someone in your family recognizes brilliance when she sees it."

"Mmmm… well, there's really no accounting for good taste, now is there, Will?" Buffy scowled back at him.

"What did he say?" Dawn asked excitedly.

"Never you mind what he said," Buffy huffed. "I want to know how to help him help us so that he disappears!"

Her words stung William. He was just as much an innocent in this as she was. He hadn't asked to be brought back. Had he asked, it wouldn't have been to haunt her.

"I'm going now," he announced, the hurt etched in his eyes as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

"Go then," Buffy said dismissively. "Don't stick around on my account."

"Don't worry, I won't," he shot back. "And just in case nobody's ever told you, no wonder these peoplehaven't made the effort to bearound you. You're a right bitch."

Buffy's mouth dropped open as William walked through the shop door. The tears came to her eyes and threatened to fall no matter how she fought them. She stared for several moments waiting for him to return. He didn't.

"Problem solved," she announced shakily, to her friends. "He's gone."

They all continued to stare at her wondering what he had said to make her eyes so wide and tearful.

"He didn't mean it," Anya said softly, reaching out to hold Buffy's hand. "Honey, look at me. He didn't mean it. He's just as frustrated as you."

Buffy looked up at Anya and saw something she couldn't place. Something familiar in her eyes… something that was so much like her mother.

"Mommy?" she whispered, disbelieving.

Anya smiled and winked at her.

"I'd want my mommy, too, if I were in your shoes," she told her. "This whole situation is just right out of the movies."

Buffy stared for another moment before shaking her head to clear it.

"Yeah… I… I think I should just go home. I'm feeling really tired all of a sudden," she told her friends. "I'll call you later, Dawn. And… it was really good seeing you all."


	10. Chapter 10

Four whole days. That's how long it had been since William left. If Anya's theory of seven was correct, that left him two whole days before he could pass onto the next realm. Maybe he'd already served his purpose, Buffy thought as she picked at a stray thread on her comforter. She lay on her belly frowning at the denim cloth. Why did she even care what happened to William Grieves? When had he become her problem? And that's when it hit her...

Her hand flew to her mouth as she scrambled to sit up. The tears stung at her eyes as the realization dawned on her. She'd been so busy obsessing over William's whereabouts that she hadn't once thought of Angel in four days.

She closed her eyes, muttering hysterically as she massaged her temples.

"Your hands, your hands... why can't I remember your hands?"

She rubbed her head even harder and let tears fall through squint-shut eyes. Slowly, a picture of Angel's hands entered her mind. They were strong and pale. And there was a thick gold band on his left ring finger. She let out a whoosh of breath she hadn't been aware she was holding.

When she opened her eyes, she felt him.

"Where've you been, five words or less?" she asked quietly, trying not to sound like she cared.

It worked. She sounded like an angry shrew.

"Out. For. A. Walk..." William responded as he ticked off the words on his fingers. "Bitch," he finished, locking his eyes firmly on hers as he ticked off the last word on his thumb.

She didn't even have to look at his hands to know what they looked like. They were a little smaller and a little thicker than Angel's. And where Angel's hands had been soft and pale, William's were tanned and looked rougher.

She kept her eyes locked on his trying futilely to hide the emotions playing in them. He'd hurt her. In his attempt to beat her to the punch, he'd stung her with his words and now her eyes were filled with pain and brimming tears.

He ran his hand through his hair, ducking his head down to avert her pain-filled gaze.

"I needed some time alone to sort through things," he began.

He could still feel her eyes on him. Daring to look up again, he saw that she was still holding back her tears.

"Buffy? Love?" He went to her and reached to brush a hair off of her forehead. His hand felt a warm tingle, but no solid contact. And he remembered what he was.

Her mouth opened in surprise as his hand passed over her skin leaving nothing but a tingling sensation in its wake.

"I could feel you," she whispered, touching her hand to her forehead. The warmth was gone. And something inside of her screamed for it to come back.

"Do that again," she asked him, her voice barely audible.

William's trembling hand reached out and passed through her cheek. Nothing solid beneath it, but the warm, tingling sensation returned as long as he was trying to touch her. He could tell that she felt it, too. She raised her hand to press over his where it ghosted against her cheek. The sensation intensified and Buffy let her eyes close unable to shake the feeling of serenity washing over her. She'd never felt as at peace as she did in that very moment.

William watched her features soften and her eyes drift shut as she visibly relaxed against him. How he wished he could feel her soft, smooth skin. As he watched her unconsciously try to get closer to him, he realized his mission. His heart caught in his throat as a silent tear slipped down her cheek. He watched its slow journey closer to his hand. When it touched his skin, he felt more alive than he ever had.

Buffy's eyes fluttered open as she felt William's thumb brush over her cheek. He stood in front of her as transparent as he'd been before, but for just a moment, she felt his touch and she felt alive.

"William..."

"I know, love," he nodded. "I felt it, too."

"What does it mean?"

She looked so confused. And he didn't have a way to voice his answer. Not yet.

"I don't know, love," he told her. "Does it... does it have to mean anything?"

She looked disappointed, but shook her head.

"No," she sighed. "I guess it doesn't. Where... where were you?"

He watched as she reluctantly pulled away and went to sit on the couch. He thrust his hands into his pockets and tried to remember.

"I don't know... I can't... Swiss cheese, love," he said honestly. "Memory's full of holes."

She smiled at his analogy.

"But I can feel that I have the answers. They're all in there. I just need to sort them out in time."

Her eyes flew to the grandfather clock across the room from her. It chimed 12 times and she swallowed hard. He turned and looked at its face and nodded.

"Reckon I should start figuring right quick, shouldn't I?" he grinned.

Buffy's eyes dropped down to study her hands. What would happen to him? Where would he go? Good goddess, why did she care so much all of a sudden? Was she that pathetic? What was it that wrapped around her heart and threatened to squeeze it shut if he left her?

"One day," she said, her voice coming out weak and shaky.

"One day," he repeated, regretfully.

"William... I... I don't want it to end," she admitted through tears. "I don't like being alone. I've been alone for so long."

"I know, Love. I know," he said soothingly. He went to her and let his hands pass over her face, her hair leaving tingles in their wake.

"Tell me what happened to Angel, Love," he chanced, wanting nothing more than to keep her awake and with him until he had to leave.

Buffy took in a slow, deep breath and let it out just as deliberately. She never talked about Angel. Not with Giles. Not with Willow. Not even with Dawn. They didn't ask her anything and she didn't tell them anything. And she thought that's the way she liked it. Until now. Hearing the words voiced, the question asked... it just made her realize how much she needed to tell someone what happened.

"He was sick," she told William. "He... he didn't want anyone to know. He thought he could beat it... that it would go away. And that nobody would be the wiser."

Buffy shook her head and for the first time, she felt angry.

"How DARE he put that kind of pressure on me! How... how UNFAIR to make me keep all that pain and all that worry to myself!"

The selfishness of that act hit her square between the eyes.

"Months went by, William. Months! He was losing weight and had gotten to the point that sunlight bothered his eyes. The treatment wasn't working. And STILL he refused to stop working. He refused to let me tell a soul," she cried, letting angry tears cloud her vision.

"And when he did die, I had to swallow it all alone. I had to tell my friends, my family... I had to tell them it was all so sudden. But the truth is, it had stretched on for a nearly a year before he was gone."

"And when your mum was sick?" William wanted to know.

"I don't know what exhausted me more... pretending nothing was wrong with Angel while I watched Mom slowly die... wondering each day if this would be the day I'd lose my mother or my husband... or both. Or pretending I wasn't relieved when Angel finally died... as much as I grieved... as devastated as I was... the relief of not worrying, not wondering..."

"Became a whole new burden of guilt for you," William told her.

"Became a whole new..." Buffy nodded as the tears continued to fall. "Yes."

"And that's what's kept you from your friends and family all this time?" he guessed.

"It's... it's easier to not worry about anyone else," she tried.

"Is it?" he wanted to know.

She met his eyes and shook her head. No. It wasn't.

"I like... I like having someone to yell at... to talk to... just to... not be alone," she said through a hiccup of tears.

And William felt it. He felt the arrow pierce his heart at that very moment and knew that his job was done.

"Not now," he hollered, looking toward the ceiling. "Not now! I'm not done!"

But he was. The ball had been set into motion the moment he fell in love with her.

"What kind of sick joke is this?" he cried out.

She was frozen in time. Everything had stopped. Her tears stopped dead in their tracks. This moment was to be preserved in his heart, his soul and his memory forever.

"You can't do this! I'm not done! I'm not DONE!" he screamed. "She doesn't even know that I love her!"

The words left his lips in a cry and he felt himself being pulled through time and space. A lifetime swirled before his eyes and his body felt the wrath of emotions from a world away as they were thrust into him.


	11. Chapter 11

_...a year later._

He still didn't know what he was doing standing in front of _Buy the Book_. He had no idea what he was doing in Sunnydale. All he knew was that he had to get here, to this place, at this time... and nothing could stop him if it tried.

He stared at the hand-painted sign in the window. "Come discover a treasure in the heep!" Under the calligraphic words was a picture of a bespectacled worm poking its head out of a book.

He had never been to Sunnydale before. He had never even been to California, yet something felt real to him. Something felt like home.

He stared through the window at a young woman sitting on a stool at the register. She was deeply engrossed in a book. She was leaning over it where it rested on the counter, her eyes riveted to the page. Her long hair was pulled back into a scrunchie and glasses were perched on the end of her nose. There was something familiar to him, yet he couldn't place where he might have seen her before.

He thought back to a month before... he woke up, rolled over and looked at the female form beside him. Drusilla. He'd been with her since leaving King Edward's in Birmingham. She was dark and moody. And a little bit off. Something had always been a little strange about Dru, but he loved her as best as he could. Even after her many indiscretions. She was always so sorry. And she always loved him so much and so well. And she never let him forget that she had been his savior. He'd still be in working-class England if she hadn't stepped in a footed his bill to New York.

He had met her at an underground club. He was only 17 and playing vampire games seemed like fun at the time. Dru took the game very seriously going as far as to have a prothesis made for her mouth that resembled vampire's fangs. She locked her eyes on him the moment he walked through the door, drinking in his tousled curls, tight jeans and a black fitted t-shirt. He was workable, she thought.

Over the years that followed, she'd transformed him into her perfect mate. His well-chiseled features were brought out even more with slicked-back platinum hair. He was pale as porcelain with dark arched brows that framed piercing blue eyes. Sometimes they were icy and cold, and at others they were dark, midnight blue and that could set a woman's soul on fire.

Dru was several years his senior and initiated him into manhood and other pleasures he probably wasn't as ready for. As the years passed, she dove deeper and deeper into the fantasy that she was a vampire and that he was her mate. She encouraged him to take on other lovers. She didn't ask him how he felt about that or about the fact that she had done so, herself. She'd often bring beautiful men and women home with her from the clubs and include him in the drug-induced debauchery. He went into it willingly, but always woke alone in a world of regret. Something was missing, but he couldn't place it.

After alsmost 15 years of being Dru's lover and, more accurately, pet, he was done. He woke up, kissed her snoring cheek goodbye and threw his few belongings into a ruck sack. He went to the garage and pulled the cover off of his restored DeSoto. It gleamed like black glass. He hadn't driven the Black Beauty in years. Dru preferred to have Wesley drive them in the hearse. He shivered at the memories. Suddenly, they seemed so foreign to him. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he had to go.

He spent a week wandering from interstate to interstate. He wasn't sure where he was going, but something was pulling him West. Now he stood in front of a little book store and a beautiful girl who had no idea he was so enrapt in her.

He was suddenly jostled by two giggling women who were just as stunned to run into him as he was to be run into.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" the red-head quickly apologized.

He smiled shyly and nodded.

"No harm," he told her studying both her and the mousy-haired girl beside her.

"Do we... do we know each other?" the red-head found herself asking as something familiar spread throughout her gut.

"I don't believe we do. I just got here today," he replied. "Spike," he offered along with his hand.

"Willow. This is my girlfriend, Tara," she told him, taking his hand and smiling. Something felt very familiar. "Well, um... welcome to Sunnydale, Spike. Hope to see you around."

Her girlfriend smiled shyly and winked before they disappeared into the store. Something was so familiar about the two. He couldn't place it, but it was that same feeling he'd gotten when he'd woke up a week before, that same feeling he had when he saw the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign, the same feeling he had when he first laid eyes on the beautiful girl who was now looking right back at him.

Buffy stood up and held his gaze. Something was drawing her to the front of the store and hell and be damned if she had any control over it. She walked in a haze until she was face to face with the man who Willow had told her called himself Spike. As soon as she locked eyes with him, she was on her feet and on her way to the door. He was looking down curiously at her as she inspected him from head to toe.

"William?" she whispered quietly.

"How do you know my--"

Before he could finish speaking, she was on her toes, arms around his neck as she pulled him down into a kiss. She pulled away reluctantly after a moment. He didn't know her, she realized.

"I'm sorry... I thought... I... I'm sorry!" she cried, her hand covering her tingling lips as she ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

She sat trembling on her sofa after making sure Tara and Willow would close up the shop for her. It was William. She knew it was. She could feel it. But he had no recollection of her. Her heart broke all over again. How cruel was it to make her fall in love with him as a ghost only to take him away from her once. Now, he was back and had no idea who she was.

"I never got to tell him," she whispered into the back of the sofa.

Spike's brow arched in doubt as the two women chattered away at him until he was thoroughly confused.

"You're to have me believe that I owned this store, was killed on my... my BICYCLE? What kind of nancy-boy rides his bicycle to work? Bicycle... and somehow was thrown into her life as a ghost... and then I was gone and now I'm back only I have no clue who any of you birds are, but I'm here?"

Willow nodded.

"Yup. Listen, I know it makes no sense, but Will- _Spike_... you're a dead-ringer for William Grieves. You even have the same first name."

Spike bristled at the sound of his own name.

"And the same last name," he admitted in shock.

"And the same... wow. Wow!" Willow said, just as stunned.

"And you came to Sunnydale, why?" Tara asked cautiously.

"I don't rightly know," he confessed. He told his story to the witches as they listened in awe.

"Don't you see? Somehow, you've been given a second chance. You just have to open yourself up to it." Willow told him excitedly.

"I'm here! Isn't that open enough?" he said incredulously.

"Not here," Tara told him, putting her hand on his temple. "Here," she said, moving it to the center of his forehead. "And here," she pointed out as she moved it to the center of his chest.

She pulled a card from the holder on the counter and quickly wrote Buffy's address on it. She handed Spike the card and fixed a stern look on him.

"Go to her," she told him. "Open up your soul, William. You'll find her there."

He didn't need the address to find her. His feet took him there as fast as he could run. There wasn't a thought in his head other than finding out where and how Buffy fit into his life and why he couldn't remember.

He automatically reached inside a potted plant outside her door for the key when he got there. He didn't know how he knew it was there, but it got him into the apartment without argument. She was sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand and tears staining her lovely face. He cautiously approached her. She didn't even look up. She just stared into the glass, swirling the red liquid around calmly.

"If you're a ghost again, just... leave. I can't do this. Not again."

He narrowed his eyes on her and tried his best to remember who she was, but he couldn't. Something was all too familiar about this living room, though, and the girl in it. Spike could swear if there was such a thing as deja vu, he was in it.

"Not a ghost, Pet," he smiled cautiously, not sure how to approach her. "Just not real sure... who... I am anymore."

She sighed and moved over on the couch, motioning for him to sit beside her.

"The last time I saw you, we were sitting right here. I guess I finally fell asleep. When I woke up... you were gone," she told him, no doubt in her mind that her William was in there.

"I wish I could remember," he told her, and he meant it.

"Maybe... maybe if..."

"You want to do what we were doing the last time we were together?" he guessed.

She nodded and reached for his hand.

"You asked me about Angel. My husband," she told him. "He... he died. It was leukemia."

He leaned in and listened to her story, waiting for something familiar to jump out at him. Nothing did.

"And then you did this," she told him, taking his hand and moving it to her cheek. She leaned into his touch as it tingled and warmed her cheek.

"And I fell in love with you," he whispered, suddenly very aware of the moment even though the events leading up to it were a blur.

"And then you..." She looked up into his eyes questioningly.

"I fell in love with you, Buffy. It was at that very moment. And then it was gone. Everything stopped. Everything but my love for you. I don't know how I remember... but it's the only thing that's clear."

"William... please... don't ever leave me again."


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you all so much for taking the time to read and review - and MOSTLY for being so very patient with me!

_...three months later_

He couldn't keep his eyes off her as she glided toward him down the aisle. He had never seen a more beautiful woman in all of his life. And he honestly couldn't remember a second of his life without her. She looked like a wingless angel in cream silk, her golden hair cascading in a tumble of curls around her face and shoulders. She stopped in front of him and smiled before turning to the left to stand beside her sister.

The pipe organ heralded Anya's walk down the aisle, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the most beautiful woman in the room, his Buffy. He still couldn't believe how they'd been brought together. The memories of her William Grieves' time with her came to him in bits and pieces. He once told her that he could feel the sexual tension coarse through his body when he remembered their first meeting. She giggled and told him that after getting past being scared to death, she fought tooth and nail against her strong attraction to him.

Buffy's relationships were repaired. Her heart was repaired. She had forgotten how much fun it was to go to the Bronze with Willow and Tara. She loved the feeling of double-dating with her sister and Xander, the light-heartedness and the memories of Dawn's childhood crush on her old friend. She especially loved helping Giles and Anya wrap up the final details for their wedding, and delighted in Anya's detailed accounts of every OB/GYN visit.

Anya stood before the priestess with her hand resting on her expanding belly. She had chosen to wear black against Buffy's suggestion of cream or rose. "I've sullied myself, Buffy. I'm impure. And I'm wearing black," she'd insisted. Later, she'd told Dawn that she'd chosen black because black didn't make her look like a beached whale. "Shamu's black and white," Xander had pointed out, jokingly. Her blank stare shut him down.

The priestess welcomed the small gathering of friends and family. Buffy looked around her, grateful for her renewed life. Willow and Tara were sitting in front of them holding hands and smiling peacefully. Her sister was beside her, newly engaged to a beaming Xander who stood on the other side of Spike. Giles was reciting his vows softly as he looked into the eyes of his pregnant bride. Anya was a beautiful bride, glowing with love. And Spike. William. He wasn't anything like Angel had been. And that was surprisingly okay with her. He loved her with his heart and his soul. He believed in her more than anyone else ever had. He was her partner in every way - at home and at the book store. And he never expected her to hold her feelings inside, to hide her pain or her happiness. He wasn't sure how he got so lucky, but he thanked the Powers That Be, wherever they were, for giving him the chance to really live and to truly love.

He watched as Giles and Anya completed their vows and the priestess pronounced them man and wife. Giles kissed his bride tenderly before holding out his arms to the girls he called his daughters. As Buffy and Dawn hugged him tightly, Spike saw a slight glow illuminate Anya's belly.

_I'm exactly what you could be..._

Spike heard the woman's voice as if she were inside his head. He caught a glimpse of the Magic Box in his mind's eye and Buffy's mother was there. She was talking to him. And then she disappeared into Anya's stomach.

"Joyce," he whispered.

"What's that honey?" Buffy asked, coming beside him and taking his hand.

"It's a... joy. A joyous occasion," he said smoothly, knowing that this was not something for Buffy to know.

"It is," she agreed. "And it's all because of you."

Spike smiled and hugged her to him, but didn't say a word. He knew better.


End file.
